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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682992">The Emperor's Guard</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirnrootemporium/pseuds/nirnrootemporium'>nirnrootemporium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:02:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirnrootemporium/pseuds/nirnrootemporium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After all the Champion of Cyrodiil has gone through, is guarding Emperor Martin Septim as he rules of Tamriel too much? Will she be able to keep him safe from potential threats, or will obsession and paranoia get the better of her?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Martin Septim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Day's Work</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi folks! This is my first ever stab at a full length fic, so I hope you enjoy! TW for blood in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood on the inside of the Great Gate, petrified, transfixed. Through all of the gates I'd closed, I'd never felt such animal dread. I felt like a doe, frozen in the middle of a clearing as a hunter nocked his arrow. Each slow step of the siege machine shook my bones and drowned out my own heartbeat. The light from its evil head burned holes into my retina. I gritted my teeth, trying to make my way forward to search for the Great Sigil Stone, but it was as if my feet were encased in blocks of lead. I blinked and the siege machine was right before me, about to enter Tamriel and crush me along the way. I blinked again and I was outside the gate kneeling at Martin's side. His throat had been slashed, his head bashed in. Blood rolled down his neck and face in rivulets, dampening his hair and soaking into the snow underneath his broken body. His eyes stared up to the heavens, wide, glassy, and dead. Bruma burned in the distance. I had failed.</p><p>I catapulted out of bed. In the dark I slammed my foot against the nightstand and lost my balance, staggering to the floor. I gasped for breath, flat on my back on the cold stone. The Imperial Guard in the bed next to me grumbled groggily, "You a'right?" I opened my eyes, whispering,</p><p>"Yes. I'm fine." I quickly found my way up to my feet and fumbled around to get dressed. My only thought was on the emperor. I knew it was just a dream, but I had to check. I had to know. I rushed out of the barracks and mounted the stairs, taking them two at a time, my armor rattling metallically in the quiet halls. They were quite deserted, but the high vaulted stone ceilings reflected the few muddy, mumbled conversations of the night guards to my ears. I reached the door to the Emperor's quarters and the Blade posted there greeted me with a smile.</p><p> "Good morning ma'am! Here for your nightly check I see! I've been here since ten pm yesterday and no one has entered or exited the Emperor's chambers at all in that time, not even the Emperor himself. I'll make sure to alert you if I see anything suspicious, and as always I will protect Emperor Septim with my life." I scrutinized him for a moment before patting his armored shoulder.</p><p>"Good work, Blade. I will be back at dawn with your replacement." I walked away, immensely relieved. Even though I always knew my dreams were just that, I could never truly shake the feelings from them until I knew Martin was safe. And even then I would've liked to see for myself, but I couldn't disturb him solely for my own reassurance. I wasn't sure if he knew of my nocturnal check ins, but I had no intention of informing him. Even though it was practically in my job description as his closest personal guard to be extremely thorough, he didn't need to know of my paranoia.</p><p>I stepped out of the palace into the chilled night air and jogged a few laps around the district to clear my head. Thankfully, the emperor's schedule wasn't particularly busy today, just a few meetings and other ordinary duties. I was glad that there wouldn't be too many moving parts for me to keep track of. </p><p>I glanced to the horizon and took up my pace. It was later than I'd thought. Inside the palace I gathered the replacement for the Blade at the emperor's door and the two of us went up to relieve him. The now off duty Blade reported no activity since I had last spoken to him. Satisfied, I went down to the kitchen for a small breakfast with some of the servants. A cup of water, bread, and cheese was good enough for me. I didn't ordinarily pay attention to their castle gossip, but today’s discussion piqued my interest.</p><p>“Did you hear that the Arch-Mage is going to be in the palace today to see the Emperor? If I meet him here do you think I could get him to accept me into the University without all those recommendations?” spoke one of the young women around the small table. Her friend laughed.</p><p>“You’re as daft as a goblin if you think Traven would even give you the time of day! He might as well be just another foreign dignitary. Don’t get your hopes up.” At that, I finished my small breakfast and left. That was all I needed to hear. The Arch-Mage… maybe he would be just as condescending and aloof as any foreign dignitary, but my name had weight here in Cyrodiil. Perhaps I could convince him to help me.</p><p>I took a brisk pace on the way up to the Emperor’s chambers. I wasn’t in the mood to chat or provide the new recruits with something to keep them out of the way. I stood with the Blade at the Emperor’s door, waiting to accompany him to breakfast. Punctual as always, the Emperor stepped out of his room just on the hour. He nodded at the Blade and smiled at me.</p><p>“Good morning, my friend.” I bowed my head before replying.</p><p>“Good morning, sire.” Without any hurry, we began our walk to the dining hall. I made sure to keep a bit behind him out of deference.</p><p>“I trust you slept well?” He asked me this question every morning, and every morning I lied.</p><p>“I did indeed, sire. I hope you did as well.’ He nodded as he always did.</p><p>“I appreciate your concern, my friend.” </p><p>Breakfast was uneventful. I stood a few feet away from the Emperor’s chair diagonally and he did not speak. After he’d had his fill and the servants began clearing the table, we went to the drawing room where he typically accepted guests. First on the list were a few dignitaries from Skyrim. I stood off to the side as unobtrusively as possible and paid little attention to the conversation, affairs outside the Heartland being far from my expertise.</p><p>After the visitors from Skyrim left, the Emperor pulled out a book to read. I kept my attention on the windows and doors of the room, scanning back and forth every so often. The Emperor spoke and my head snapped to him. “Listen to this,” he said, then read a short passage to me about the Amulet of Kings from The Trials of St. Alessia. “I’m certain you’ve already read that, but it’s one of my favorites, and I believe it has special weight now after what we have all gone through. What do you think?” I nodded.</p><p>“I agree, sire. I imagine in eras to come they will think us fools for having been bound to a piece of jewelry, even with its divine properties.” The Emperor twisted in his seat to face me.</p><p>“You don’t need to use such honorific titles when no one is around. You know my name, use it. No one’s here to judge you as disrespectful.” I shook my head.</p><p>“It is the principle, sire.” He sighed and went back to his book.</p><p>“How stubborn you are.” A smile crossed my face for a moment before the door opened and I smoothed my expression back into neutrality. The Arch-Mage entered with the grace and self-assurance that comes with power and age. Martin greeted him and they sat down to have a discussion. I listened marginally closer than I had previously, hoping to find some kind of opening to make my case to Traven. They spoke at length about some threat of necromancers, and just when I’d lost all hope of finding a window in, the Emperor rose and went into the adjacent library to search for a book. I turned towards the Arch-Mage and spoke quietly.</p><p>“Arch-Mage Traven, I have a favor to ask of you, if I may.”</p><p>“Well,” he said with a hint of humor, “you may certainly ask, but I make no guarantees.”</p><p>“Thank you. I find that I have difficulty sleeping most nights, and as you can imagine, that makes my duties here most difficult. As most of the potion recipes I have are combat related, I was wondering if you might have something to aid my insomnia?” He paused.</p><p>“I may have something of use to you. I’ll check my library and send you what I can find.”</p><p>“You have my gratitude, sir.” The Emperor returned to the room at that moment with his book, presumably about necromancers. They continued their conversation, but now I’d stopped listening entirely, too distracted by the hope that I may yet have a chance at finding peace.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Emperor's Request</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy! Tw for violence in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The days slid into one another, the lines between each blurred by terrified and nearly sleepless nights. With each passing day without word from the Arch-Mage, my hope began to fizzle away. He was busy, he’d get to my request eventually, I reasoned, but what if he’d forgotten? Or perhaps he’d only agreed to help to get me to leave him alone, though that seemed unlikely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As each day passed, I began to realize something odd. The Emperor, who was typically too engrossed in his reading during his off times to speak to me except for reading out the occasional passage, became more talkative. He began reading books that related to my expertise and asking questions quite often, all the while demanding that I refer to him by his first name. Although I found it all to be strange at first, I was also pleased to speak about what I knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About a week after I’d spoken with Traven, I was standing by the Emperor in his study on a warm, sleepy afternoon. The sun that shone through the window was warm on the back of my neck and my armor weighed heavy on my shoulders. My eyes started to slide shut and I dug my fingernails into my palm, begging myself for just a few more hours of alertness. When the Emperor shut his book percussively and sat back in his chair, my head snapped towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” My stomach twisted nervously, fearing the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, have a seat.” Hesitantly, I sat on the other side of his desk. I tried to edge my chair around a bit, attempting to get even a peripheral view of the door that was now behind me. “I’ve been doing some reading about traditional requirements of an emperor’s life.” He paused, watching my face, which I kept neutral. “There are a few expectations I find particularly difficult to accept.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. Which trouble you, if I may ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there are certain expectations for the kind of woman I must marry. She must be of noble stock and all that. The creation of alliances through marriage is favorable as well. To be honest, I miss that aspect of freedom my old life had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The freedom to choose a partner as you see fit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. And yet… you know I’m not the most conventional of rulers. After all, in the past I have had quite a few qualms about the moral implications of monarchy, and I still do. Regardless of my personal struggles with my position, I’ve done my best to follow tradition up to this point. However, this is something I cannot abide by.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have someone in mind? Can I help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do have someone in mind, though you can’t help in the capacity you might ordinarily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what can I do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you can do is say yes.” He gave me a significant look. I blinked several times, stunned and rendered stiff. He opened his mouth to explain himself further but I cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean… me.” He nodded, gripping his hands together. I stared at him for a few moments before continuing carefully, “Sire, with all due respect, I’m not sure what you’re suggesting is the best idea. It seems, for me, a conflict of interest at best and at worst… a breach of my honor, I suppose.” I found myself looking desperately for something to focus my eyes on aside from his face, my cheeks growing hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not asking you to make any permanent decisions. Maybe just a few outings at first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you and I are on one of these suggested outings, who’s meant to protect you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure another Blade would be perfectly capable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry sire-” he stopped me, holding up his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t call me that.” I sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apologies. Martin, you hired me to do a job. I’m committed to doing it to the fullest extent of my capabilities, and your request would compromise my ability to do so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. With that being your reasoning, would it be correct to say that the only reason you are refusing me is your job? Your answer won’t impact your employment, just so you know.” My certainly faltered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know. I was not expecting this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My apologies. Take all the time you need to consider.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must understand that wherever my feelings lie, my ultimate answer will still be no.” He nodded and I returned to my position as quickly as I could, eager to escape his deep gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night I went to bed with a pit in my stomach. Now what was I supposed to do? I could just go on like nothing had ever happened, but that would be incredibly uncomfortable for both of us. If I told him I had no feelings for him, he’d be upset, though I doubt he’d let that cloud his judgement too much. If I said I did… then what? There couldn’t be anything between us, I wouldn’t allow it. Whatever I decided to tell him, what was the actual truth? He was a good man to be sure, kind and noble, smart and diligent. But I hadn’t even considered him in this light until now. And I was certainly not of noble stock. There wasn’t a royal bone in my body and I strongly doubted my ability to adequately fulfill my position as the Emperor’s partner. With much effort, I blew my hurricane of thoughts away in order to pray to Mara for guidance in this matter, asking her for something to point me in the right direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few hours of tossing, turning, and periodically repeating my prayer to Mara, I slipped into a fitful sleep. I opened my eyes to the acrid heat of burning bodies waving against my skin and dampening it with sweat. I was back in the Temple District, at the feet of Mehrunes Dagon. I looked up to see his eyes were already on me. His gaze was like a physical force, throwing me back onto the stone of the street. Time slowed down as I was in mid-air, my vision spinning and vibrating. The wind was knocked out of me when I hit the ground, but I managed to stumble back to my feet with my shield aloft, trying not to be annihilated by the growing onslaught of daedra. I looked around for Martin. I saw his form slashing at scamps and dremora and I started towards him. I moved slowly as I cut my way through the skirmish, as if wading through thick and heavy mud. Just as I reached him and extended my arm to grab his shoulder, he vanished and my hand curled around nothing but air. I whirled around to see him in the clutches of Mehrunes Dagon, held aloft a hundred feet above the Temple. I opened my mouth to scream and the scene changed. The battle was still raging, but now Martin and I were at the door of the Temple of the One. He spoke, and his voice sounded like it was coming from across a cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to confess something to you,” he said. I wanted to tell him that we didn’t have time and that we had to get inside the Temple, but my mouth was too heavy to form words. He stepped closer to me. I wanted to grab him and drag him inside, but my limbs weighed a thousand pounds. “I love-” before he could finish the words that I knew were coming, he collapsed against me with a jolt and began to slip to the ground. I grabbed his shoulders to hold him up and looked down. The tail of a dremora’s arrow protruded from his back, its tip piercing his heart. The Emperor was limp and dead against me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat up straight in bed, breathing hard and drenched in sweat, my hair sticking to the back of my neck with the moisture. My heart pounded and I struggled to remember where I was. A few guards entered the room and I flinched before I realized I was just in the barracks. I rose and knew what my answer had to be, no matter what I truly wanted. Mara had given me a sign, just as I’d asked. I was certain now that anything between us would mean Martin’s demise.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Surprises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surprises indeed... enjoy! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After I’d checked to be sure the Emperor was safe, I traversed the palace halls like a ghost, my footsteps echoing hollowly. The image of Martin dead against me kept flashing cruelly before my eyes, making me shudder each time. I wished Mara’s sign had been a little less harsh, but She must have been trying to show me how urgent this decision was. The Emperor must be in some kind of danger, then. His feelings for me must have contributed somehow, perhaps acting as a distraction as my dream predicted. But would my rejection distract him further? Of course there was no way of knowing, but my best course of action would be to follow Mara’s guidance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly I was aware of the sounds of the palace waking up and the bustle of morning preparations. I looked out the window at the sun’s place on the horizon and swore. I wouldn’t have time for breakfast today. All I could do was pray I wouldn’t pass out. Shaking away the last of my sleepless stupor, I made my way quickly up to the Emperor’s chambers. I didn’t like to make him wait, though I don’t think it mattered to him. I reached his door just as he stepped out. He smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, my friend.” I nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, sire.” His eyes lingered on my face for just a little too long, trying to glean clues from my expression. I wondered if he already knew what I was going to say and he was just waiting for me to say it, or if he still hoped I might say yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing keeping my eyes open through the day was the palpable tension in the room, and even the gentle and quiet warmth of the afternoon wasn’t enough to soothe my mind. I could feel his awareness of me, his apprehension of my answer to his question. I wasn’t afraid to say it, per se, I’d seen and done far more frightening things than rejecting someone, even if that someone was the Emperor. I felt some other discomfort, something unfamiliar drawing me back from saying what needed said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The time came in the evening for the Emperor to retire to his chambers and I still had not given him my answer. As I accompanied him through the corridors my mind raced, trying to predict every possible outcome. Would he be angry? Would his rage echo like an explosion through the stone halls, alerting the whole palace to my shame? Would he… cry? The very thought of it made me shift in dismay. I shook myself. It didn’t matter what he said or did. I had to do this. It was my duty to keep the Emperor safe. I clenched my hands tightly into fists and inhaled through my teeth. “I have your answer, Martin.” He stopped walking, turning to face me. His gaze pierced into my flesh, and though I didn’t move, I felt as though I was shrinking under it. My words were forced. “My answer is no. I don’t return your feelings. I’m sorry.” He continued staring into me unreadably for what felt like an hour before he spoke, his voice almost exaggeratedly level.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand. Your feelings are entirely your own. I won’t endeavor to alter them.” He kept walking without me and I quickly followed. Something in my chest twisted but I ignored it. I must have just felt guilty. But I had to do this. It was the safest option, and it was my job to keep Martin safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Emperor disappeared into his room without bidding me goodnight. The Blade arriving to take her position at the door didn’t notice, but I did. I exhaled slowly, feeling my heart twist again. It was nothing, I thought. I was just tired. Someday I would be able to get a good night’s sleep, then these uncomfortable feelings would go away. I rubbed at my eye as I walked away, feeling dampness there. My eyes had to be dry from a lack of sleep. My face grew hot and I steadied myself. Sleep. That’s all I needed. This was nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I made my way down to the servants’ quarters for my late dinner. I moved slowly, my legs and hips aching and dragging at me. I was beginning to consider making an early morning trip to the Arcane University to see what was going on. I was running out of ways to handle this debilitating insomnia and still work a full day. I didn’t want to be an imposition, but I felt like I was going slowly mad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the small servants’ dining area I gathered a plate of food and a cup of water and collapsed into a hard, wooden chair, my head lolling back and my eyes slipping closed. I shook off my gauntlets, letting them clank heavily to the ground. I rolled my wrists, cracking their sore joints. I hadn’t been still for even a minute when a voice spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma’am?” I opened my eyes and sat up slowly. It was a servant. I grimaced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What could you possibly want?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… someone from the Arcane University dropped this off for you earlier… said it was from Arch-Mage Traven.” She held out a parcel and I snatched it from her, leaving her hands extended in the air where the package had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” She hurried away and I tore at the brown paper eagerly. Inside was a potion and a recipe to make it. I wolfed down my dinner and hurried up to the barracks. I felt hopeful at last, all of the day’s stress forgotten and my oddly tearful eyes dried. I readied myself for bed and downed the potion, letting a ragged smile lift my face. I fell into my cot and I floated into a dreamless sleep within minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I woke to shouting in the palace and the sound of people rushing around me, loudly throwing on armor and strapping weapons to their hips. I groaned, rolling over. For once, I didn’t know what was going on and I didn’t care. Somebody else could handle it this time. I was just about to fall back asleep despite the noise when I was shaken vigorously. I opened my eyes with reluctance and turned to face the Blade who’d grabbed me. “What in the name of the Nine is going on? If this isn’t important I’ll have you strung up.” The sheer panic in the guard's voice when he spoke incited a deep chill in my heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s been an attempt on the Emperor’s life!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw for violence in this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I was on my feet instantly. I threw on my armor, terror blaring in my mind and drowning out my every sense. I dashed out of the room with the Blade who’d awakened me at my heels. Some weak voice in my head, an undercurrent beneath the rapids of my adrenaline, asked me if this was just another dream, but I had no answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I skidded to a halt at the open door of the Emperor’s chambers, my mind unable to reconcile with what my eyes were seeing. The would-be assassin was dead on the floor in the doorway, his coldly familiar red robes draped on his body like a pool of blood pouring from his very flesh and collecting under his corpse. I clenched my jaw to keep it from dropping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mythic Dawn?” The Blade who had accompanied me nodded at my side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Emperor said he’d claimed to be the last one, and that he was here to avenge his slain Master.” I knelt beside his body.  “The Emperor killed him himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want a team sent out to make sure there are no more remaining members. The existence of even one is deeply concerning.” The Blade nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure that is arranged.” I searched the agent of the Mythic Dawn and found nothing but a healing potion and a few coins. I looked up at the Blade once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to your Blade sister who was posted here?” He looked down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dead. Her body has been taken to her family to be buried.” I nodded solemnly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See that they receive my personal condolences.” He nodded and hurried off to attend to the duties I’d given him. Slowly I rose and looked down at the vacant face of the dead assassin, my lip curling with disgust. I slammed my heel into his nose and broke it with a sickening, wet crack. I kicked aside the body and stepped into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was deathly quiet. I swallowed thickly and I fought to keep my voice steady. “Sire?” Martin stepped out of his bedroom, disheveled. He was wearing his old priest’s robe again. “Thank the Nine, you’re alive! Are you hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I’m uninjured.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve sent Blades out to confirm that there really are no more Mythic Dawn members.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should try to get some sleep, sire. I will guard your chambers personally.” He retreated into his bedroom silently. I kicked the corpse out into the hall and shut the door behind me. As I leaned against the wall beside the door frame, my thoughts swarmed viciously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is your fault,” my mind hissed. “You took that damned potion, shirked your duties, and almost got Martin killed.” I cringed. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, it was true. If I’d been awake to check on the Emperor as usual, I could have intercepted the assassin and killed him before any other lives were lost, even if it came at the expense of my own life. I’d put my life on the line so many times, it felt like I was living on stolen time anyway. I’d long since admitted to myself my willingness to die in the name of the Emperor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes fell upon the dead body before me and I wound up, kicking it roughly. “Damn you,” I spat, but it was anyone’s guess if I was talking to the cadaver or to myself. I threw myself back against the wall and exhaled a strained sigh. Soon someone would be here to remove that thing and I wouldn’t have to look at that blight upon the face of Tamriel ever again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Around mid-morning, long after the body had been whisked away, a servant passed by and I stopped him. “I need you to run an errand for me. Go to the Market District and buy me all the anti-fatigue potions you can find.” I handed him a small pouch of coins. “If there’s anything left, keep it.” He nodded respectfully and continued on his way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Emperor spent the day in his chambers and I did not leave my post for anything. The sun began to sink below the horizon, casting brilliant oranges and reds through the tall, arched stone windows around me. On a normal day, this warmth might have lulled me, but nothing could warm the chip of furious ice that had replaced my heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just before dark, the servant returned with the potions I’d sent him out for. I took the parcel and removed a bottle, setting the rest by my feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The woman at the shop seemed concerned…” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said I was buying an awful lot and that these aren’t meant for long term use…” I popped the stopper out of the bottle and downed the bitter contents in one long drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amusing that she thinks I have a choice. Good evening.” The boy stared at me for a moment before walking away. I dropped the empty bottle back into the parcel and rolled my armor-heavy shoulders, already feeling more awake. As much as I might desire sleep, it was clear that such wastes of time were a detriment to my duties, and I couldn’t have that.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. From the Mind of Martin Septim</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A change of perspective for a chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin paced in the great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple with something like aggression. The portal to Gaiar Alata had closed with his champion in it, leaving only a coal black scorch mark on the stone floor. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he might never see his friend alive again, and the image of her laying dead in some eternal dungeon filled him with dread.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head. No. She’d been sent into the clutches of death and evil before and came back alive. If anyone could do this, it was her. Perhaps no one aside from her in the whole of the empire would have been capable. Truly, she was a hero. He’d known it from the moment she’d stepped into the Chapel of Akatosh in the smoldering ruins of Kvatch, and she’d done nothing but prove herself since. He knew she thought of herself as nothing more than a person doing her duty, but he knew in his heart that she was much more significant than that. He couldn’t lose his faith in her now, at the most crucial moment of all. If the Nine had protected her this far, they wouldn’t abandon her now. Unless they did. He cursed the thought. They would keep her from harm. They would.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The very foundation of the Temple began to tremble, as if the mountain itself feared what was to come. A crack opened in the floor where the portal had been, spitting up two night-dark pillars with a fiery window in between. Out from the flames stumbled the Hero of Kvatch, bloody and pale, holding the Amulet of Kings aloft in her badly burnt fist. The portal collapsed into nothing and Martin rushed forward to meet the returning champion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the Nine!” he cried, “You’ve made it, my friend!” She fixed him with a dull, blind stare before collapsing onto the stones at his feet, the amulet skittering away on the polished floor. He knew immediately that she was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martin sank to his knees as the world fell away, leaving nothing but himself and the now corpse of his friend. He wanted to run. He wanted to go back to the priesthood and never look back. He wanted to be anywhere but here, but he was weighted down in this crushing darkness, unable to muster the strength to even move his eyes from the broken body before him. He let out a cry of anguish and his eyes flew open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze whipped around the room, trying to grasp onto something real. Curtains. Soft, richly colored fabrics. The moons glimmering through the window. He was in the bedroom at the palace. He ran his hand slowly over the sheet he was beneath, feeling its silky texture and exhaling a measured breath. It wasn’t real, he repeated to himself. His friend was still alive. He was the emperor. It was all over. He shifted in bed to look out the window. The moons were still in the sky, but he was too disoriented to gauge the hour from their position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The emperor swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the sumptuous rug under his feet, trying to ground himself in reality. He turned his head, looking towards the door of his bedroom and wondering if the Hero of Kvatch was still guarding his chambers. He was well aware of her dedication to her position. He rose and lifted the silver cup on his bedside table to his lips. The water it held was stale and unsatisfying. Setting aside the cup, he walked silently through the bedroom door and then to the door that led into the hall outside his chambers. Behind the door, he heard quiet voices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you certain there aren’t any more of them? I find it hard to believe this was a lone attack,” murmured the Hero of Kvatch</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve sent Blades all over Tamriel and had reports from those already stationed in various cities. We searched their cave. There’s no evidence of strange activity that would indicate a resurgence of the Mythic Dawn,” spoke a male voice. It was Jauffre.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep looking. I don’t want to have even the slightest shadow of a doubt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We intend to. I implore you to take care of yourself in the meantime. You’ll be of no use to anyone if you let yourself deteriorate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what I’m doing, Jauffre. I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you’re telling the truth. I’m not above informing the Emperor of your self-destructive behavior.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I told you, I’m fine.” The voices were silent. Martin already knew his personal guard was not taking good care of herself, but now he feared she was worse off than he was aware. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jauffre, I’d like you to return to Cloud Ruler Temple and prepare the Blades to house the Emperor if necessary. If things go badly here, that will be the safest place, as it always has been.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is wise. I will do so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should rest. It’s a long journey from here to Bruma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ought to as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have my duties to attend to now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t say I’ve ever met someone quite as stubborn as you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Jauffre.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martin heard a single pair of footsteps moving away from the chamber and fading down the corridor. All was silent. He stepped away from the door, his lips pressing into a line. He had to convince his friend to care for herself, but how? He could order her to back off, but despite her fierce loyalty, he knew she’d find a way to disobey him if she felt it to be in the name of his safety. If he just asked her about it, she’d likely try to refute his accusations. Maybe he’d just have to let her go until she passed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made his way back to bed. Whatever hour it was, he probably wouldn’t go back to sleep that night. All he could see when he closed his eyes was that vacant stare she’d fixed him with in his dream before she fell down, dead. It wasn’t real, he told himself. It wasn’t real. The gods truly had protected them both, and they would continue to. Until they didn't.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw for substance abuse in this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sleep is death. Sleep is death. Sleep is death. This circular thought swarmed in my brain at all times. If I let down my guard for even a moment, everyone I cared about would die. The Emperor would be murdered and the Empire would fall. I was the only one left holding it all together. And really, sleep was nothing more than just a trial of death. A little accursed taste of the pain and nothingness to come. No, I wouldn’t sleep again even if I had the chance. I wouldn’t die unless I was taken down. Never of my own volition, even if impermanently. The urge to sleep was a sin I was obligated to keep at bay, despite its constant weighing and dragging. It was evil. The worst kind of evil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The days melted together into one unending stretch of toil. I followed the Emperor around like a nervous, exhausted dog, ready to snap at the slightest movement in his direction, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword always. People started to learn that speaking to me was a pointless pursuit. I lost track of their words and their voices became a dull hum in my ears almost as soon as they started talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t count the amount of potions I took in a day. I started with one in the morning and one in the evening, but I spiralled so quickly. It must have been quite a substantial amount, though, since the local shopkeepers were threatening to stop selling to the Imperial servants I sent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some unquantifiable amount of time after my eternal guardianship began, there was a meeting of the High Council with the Emperor. I didn’t know anything about it other than that it was vital. In the chamber I took my place behind the Emperor as always and the meeting began. The voices in the room grew indistinct rapidly. The only one I was capable of picking out was Martin’s, and even then I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My legs began to tremble imperceptibly. This, I knew, was the kiss of death. The strong potion I’d downed before the meeting was already starting to wear off. I reached a shaking hand into my hip pouch for another, but whatever vestige of sentience I had left stopped me. I couldn’t just chug potions in the middle of this important, formal event. I’d just have to soldier through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I gritted my teeth and dug my fingernails into my palms. I wouldn’t sleep. No. The air, which was normally drafty here, became to me warm and intoxicatingly perfumed, the hum of voices now a lullaby. My already distorted, fuzzy vision swayed. I blinked hard and shook myself as discreetly as possible. No. Sleep was not an option. I just had to make it through this meeting, that’s all. For a split second the world around me twisted into sharp focus. The light in the room was so bright it burned my eyes, the air suddenly so cold it might’ve frozen my flesh to ice. Martin’s voice was thunder in my ears as he called my name. Dimly, I realized I’d never heard him call me by my name before. Just as quickly as the world exploded into light, it curled away into darkness. My legs gave way at last and I fell from a great height, not to my death, but against something soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When I woke, I was unsure of where I was. I was laying on a couch in a warm, silent room, and I was wrapped in a soft blanket. My muscles ached, but I was comfortable. My armor was gone, leaving me just in the formless, brown linen plain-clothes I typically wore underneath. Behind my head, paper rustled as a page of a book was turned. I wasn’t alone. I tried to open my eyes, but they were caked shut with the particles of sleep. Slowly I reached up to rub my eyelashes free of each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re awake at last.” I tilted my head back to see that the speaker was Martin Septim and that we were in his chambers. I quickly sat up, attempting to assume some kind of attention despite my sleep disheveled state. He held up one hand. “Be at ease, my friend. There’s no trouble here.” I stared at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You passed out during the High Council meeting. I carried you here and you slept for three days.” I leapt to my feet, the blanket over me falling to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods’ blood! Three days?” He nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not angry. You needed that sleep. You look so much better now that you’ve had it.” I stared at him, stunned and struggling to compose my thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I can’t do this anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t do this job. It’s… it’s ruining me. I need to go. There are plenty of more capable Blades to guard you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I implore you to stay. All you need to do is take care of yourself.” I shook my head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s my armor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had it taken back to the barracks.” I dashed out of the room. I still felt fatigued, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away, to get out of the palace and go far away, anywhere else.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Wanderer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A lot has changed...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The weary years passed like hours, melding together like dripping candle wax. I never truly recovered my energy, but I learned to live with my weakness. I walked the dusty and dangerous roads of Tamriel, a refugee from nothing, a single, solitary nomad. I drifted from province to province, looking for something that couldn’t be found. I didn’t have nightmares anymore, but I didn’t have pleasant dreams either. My mind only recalled that which had already passed, desaturated of all color. I prayed to no gods and reviled no evil. I had been set afloat, untethered from all previous allegiances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I climbed the shivering mountains of Skyrim and waded in the sweltering swamps of Black Marsh, a foreigner to all, feeling my age in every step. I saw many things and people, and some damnable mercy made me lose my taste for murder. I only wounded those who I could avoid killing, feeling that even the petty bandit deserved a chance, even if some brutal Imperial soldier might kill them anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One night after years of sleeping in fields and on mountain summits, I decided to take a night in a grubby little roadside inn. I lowered my crackling bones into a small wooden chair and found a page from some newspaper on the roughly hewn table before me. The headline caught my eye and I did not read on. A royal marriage. The emperor had found a bride. Something clenched inside of me that I refused to name. Good for him, I thought dully. I’d have to offer him my congratulations if I met him again before I returned to the soil. Tiredly, I flipped the paper over, not caring to see it anymore. I figured it would be about a year before I heard of an heir. If I could manage to keep track of the time, maybe I’d take a look at another paper then. My lips twisted bitterly for a moment before returning to their natural careworn frown. I stood up, quietly glad I hadn’t yet booked a room. I didn’t think I could stand to be near anyone that night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A year passed like an hour, sunset slipping into sunrise slipping into sunset. I realized as I passed through a small village the amount of time that had passed since the wedding I’d heard of. A few young women were talking about the Emperor’s son. They imagined him to be a sweet little child. I’d been exactly right. Internally, I cursed. I didn’t want to know. I could’ve gone to my grave without knowing. I turned on my heel and plunged back into the forest, not wanting to hear another word from anyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On and on I trudged, going wherever the winds pushed me, but before I knew it, I was standing on a knoll thick with wild wheat, overlooking the Imperial City in the pink-gold light of dusk. After all, there are only so many directions to go before one returns to the beginning. Perhaps this was some kind of divine intervention. Or a cruel joke. Whatever it was, I’d never been one to deny destiny and with a weight in my stomach, I approached the city that had haunted my dreams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I walked the city for a day and night. Somehow little had changed since I’d left. There were still beggars. Still the biased and barely restrained bloodthirsty eyes of the Imperial watch. The upper crust and the crumbs existed in the same city but in entirely different worlds. I felt sickened by the injustice, but I was just an observer now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’d intentionally avoided the Palace District during the majority of my short stay in town, but I knew I needed to go there. Maybe for closure. Maybe for some reason I didn’t know yet. I found myself gazing up at the spindly, tall spire on a pleasantly warm afternoon, its grooves highlighted by the sunlight. Part of me wanted to spit on the ground, but I held myself back. I was still a little civilized. Not much, but enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I looked down to see an Imperial guard coming towards me. I wondered what he was about to accuse me of stealing, but his tone of voice startled me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are- are you the Champion of Cyrodiil?” I watched him impassively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some called me that seasons ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, the Emperor is looking for you.” I raised one eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is he now? Well, who am I to deny His Majesty my company?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please come with me.” The guard led me into the palace. As much as the city had stayed the same, the palace seemed as if I’d never even left it. The familiarity of it all made me cringe. I was brought to the same drawing room where the emperor always accepted guests. Truly, nothing had changed. I was shown in and the emperor was not yet there. The guard left me and I sat in silence. If I closed my eyes, I could have been standing at my post, just like I had all those years ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I heard the door to the library creak open and I pulled myself to my feet. The man whose name I wouldn’t even speak in my own mind entered the room. He had aged well, lines of worry pressed regally into his face. His hair had begun to gray, making him look strikingly like his father. We stared at each other, his gaze reading into my soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been quite a long time,” I said flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. It has. Please, have a seat.” I obeyed and he sat across from me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I owe you my congratulations. I hear you’ve started your own royal family.” He scrutinized me for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. I hope the years have treated you well.” I exhaled slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate your well wishes, but can I ask what you wanted to see me about?” The corners of his eyes crinkled with the echo of a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s always been straight to the point with you. I’ve asked you here to request your services again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me finish before you decide. The Mages Guild has fallen at the hands of the Order of the Black Worm. Arch-Mage Traven is dead, and based on some daring spywork from the Blades, it’s our understanding that Mannimarco has set his sights on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s… frightening news. But I’m not much of a fighter anymore. There are likely others younger and stronger than me to take the task.” Martin sat back in his chair, looking me over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true. But there are none whom I trust as much.” I hesitated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… what would you have me do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like you on my guard again. This time, I’d like you to pay special attention to my son.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s noble of you, but you’re the sitting emperor. You need protection.” His face hardened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do as I say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re assuming I’ll agree at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could order you to do it. Disobedience would mean treason.” I stood up, pushing my chair back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your power’s gone to your head. You’ve become the very thing you once reviled.” He stood up as well, stepping closer to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what needs done, champion. My word is law.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, do you intend to execute me for my insubordination? I’d love to see you try.” He advanced towards me again and I stood my ground, my eyes fixed on his. The air cracked with invisible lightning between us and his arms flew around me, his lips connecting with mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyes grew wide then sank closed, my hands finding the edges of his robes to clutch him against me. And yet, just as quickly as he’d started it, I ended it, shoving him off of me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You… you bastard, you’re married! I won’t be your mistress!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you at least be my guard, then?” A scowl clenched my features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll do it.” At last, a full and genuine smile rose on Martin’s face.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Return to Duty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been a little while, sorry about that!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>From the moment I met Martin's bride, I knew that even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't harbor any ill-will towards her. She was a young Redguard woman, somewhere in her early thirties. Tight coils of dark hair framed her face, not unlike a halo, her lips were softly plump, and her eyes were as dark as the freshly dampened earth and just as deep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unaware that I was observing her from the doorway, she played with her young son in the nursery. She sang tender rhymes to him and endeavored to make him laugh with tickles and faces. The innocence of it all tugged my face into a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holding her boy, she turned and caught sight of me. “Oh! Forgive me, I didn’t know you were there…” Her air of unreserved joy and playfulness turned to one of timidity instead. “Aren’t you… the Champion of Cyrodiil?” I nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Emperor has requested I guard your son, and I suppose you by proxy.” She smiled gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I remember his intention to hire you for that task. I’m Carmilia. Please, come in.” I stepped into the room and found a place to stand against the back wall of the nursery. She watched me awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, just go about your day as normal. Pretend I’m not even here.” Carmilia went back to playing with her son, but I could see that she was hesitant with an observer. As time passed, she grew more comfortable it seemed, and she was able to loosen back up, playing with her child as if she was alone once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the afternoon, she left to take tea and retire for a short nap. Alone, I slowly approached the cradle that held the sleeping heir to the Empire. I removed one of my gauntlets and reached down, gently caressing his round, soft cheek. He didn’t stir. He was so innocent. Unknowing. He had no idea that one day he would control the lives of thousands. No idea of the conflict that threatened his life and the lives of his family. I almost envied the purity of his youth. With a quiet sigh, I stepped back, putting my gauntlet back on. Perhaps someday I might relearn that kind of peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That evening, I allowed a night guard to take my place as Carmilia lulled her son to sleep. Before going to bed, I walked quietly through the palace, reacquainting myself with it. As I passed the Emperor’s chambers, I noticed that the door was ajar. I peered into the room to see Martin kneeling with his back to me, seemingly praying. As I watched, his body shuddered and he gripped the edge of the low table before him, but all only for a moment. I knocked lightly and he twisted to look before rising. “I thought I’d closed that door. But please, come in.” I entered, softly closing the door behind me. He started towards me, but I held up my hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you feeling alright, Martin?” He hesitated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why… why do you ask?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seemed like you were in pain before you noticed me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I scrutinized him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right.” Slowly I came closer to him and reached up, ghosting my hand against his cheek. “Do you promise to tell me if something is wrong? It’s my job to protect, and how am I to do that if things are kept from me?” His eyes were frozen to mine and he replied slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I promise.” I coaxed his face close to mine and I brushed my lips to his with the lightness of a moth’s wing. I grasped his lapels, pulling him nearer. Yet, in my mind’s eye, the face of Martin’s poor, sweet wife appeared. He reached around my waist to pull me closer, but I quickly slid out of his grasp, remembering myself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I exhaled a slow breath. “No more. There can be no more of this. You’re married and I have too much self-respect to be just some mistress of yours.” I turned on my heel and strode towards the door. “Goodnight, sire.” My voice was stiff and formal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I retired to the barracks, feeling quite angry with myself. Why did I do that? I shouldn’t give in to this thing that had gained purchase in my heart. Besides, something had changed in Martin since I’d left. The rule had made him callous. I could only hope that his son wouldn’t be someday marred by the same callousness as his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few hours after dawn, I returned to the nursery where I found Carmilia seated by the cradle, her head bent forward and her hands clasped, crying softly. “Ma’am?” Her head snapped up to me in surprise and she quickly tried to compose herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry… don’t mind me!” She swallowed a sob. I walked over to her and knelt at her side, gently taking her hand in both of mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I may ask… what’s the matter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just can’t. Please don’t ask any more questions.” I fell silent, squeezing her hand lightly. I watched her discreetly as her body shook with tears. I could only imagine what the poor girl was so upset about. Gently, I stroked the back of her hand, lowering my head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The baby began to wail and I let go of her hand, getting to my feet. “Shall I...?” She shook her head, rising.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I can handle this.” Her voice was already steadier. With a slow step, I returned to my position at the wall. As I watched Carmilia soothe her child, I couldn’t help but think that there was something going on in this palace that I was missing. Something very wrong.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Champion's Quest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw for violence and body horror</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I hadn’t seen the Emperor in days. I tried to investigate, but it seemed that someone was anticipating my every move. I was continually thwarted by un-pickable locked doors, guarded hallways, and tight-lipped watchmen. My concern was proven rightful when Martin at last summoned me to his drawing room. His hair had grayed with a speed unlike anything I’d ever seen, now almost completely iron. His face was skeletal and drawn, the dark hollows under his eyes making them seem huge. I stared at him in shock before he entreated me to sit down, his voice shaking slightly. I lowered myself into the chair across from him slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sire, what’s happened to you?” He didn’t miss a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You surely do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t. I’ve called you here to send you on a mission and I want to make this as quick as possible.” I raised one eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A mission? I thought you hired me to guard your son.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter. We’ve tracked Mannimarco to Echo cave. I need you to go there and kill him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t seriously expect me to take down an army of necromancers on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do and you will. Take this.” He held out a jagged black gem, the size of a daedra heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A filled Colossal Black Soul Gem. It will protect you from Mannimarco’s thrall.” I reached out, taking the stone from him. It was oddly warm and pulsed like a beating heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. What’s… filling it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arch-Mage Traven’s soul.” I looked down, staring at it with mild horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now go. We haven’t a moment to lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Martin, I can’t accept this quest. The part of me that was once a warrior with no fear of killing my enemies is gone. I can’t kill anyone, no matter how evil they may be. I’m sure there is someone more suited to this task than I am." I handed the stone back, but he did not take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's an order!" Martin bellowed, his torso jolting with the force of his voice. I blinked then slowly placed the gem in my bag and stood, watching him. He gripped the arms of his chair with twitching fingers and white knuckles. His face was strained and I could see the stiff, trembling tendon in his neck. I closed my eyes for a moment and hurried away, feeling deeply unsettled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After packing supplies, I began my trek to the cave. It was near Bruma, I’d passed by a few times during my travels, but little did I know then the kind of evil taking place inside. I felt a growing dread the nearer I came to my destination. Something inside me was certain I wouldn’t make it out of this alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I arrived at the cave around midnight, the chill of northern night wind tearing at my face and neck. I crept through the battered door, closing it quietly behind me. Somewhere nearby, I heard voices. Necromancers. I drew my sword and moved toward the sound. They would likely be blocking my path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I peered around a corner to see three of them. I extended my free arm and shot a burst of fire at the one whose back was to me. I dashed into the alcove as they regained their bearings and began to conjure their undead. I dodged the zombies, slicing at the unarmored bodies of the mages, each one falling easily. Before I’d managed to kill the last necromancer, his conjured corpse knocked me back against the stone wall of the cave and I felt a sickening crunch in my shoulder. I stifled a scream and obliterated both the zombie and its master with a strong strike of lightning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I slid down the wall, nauseated by the sheer agony radiating from my likely shattered shoulder. I could already hear the alarmed shouts and running steps of other necromancers elsewhere in the cave. I had to heal myself quickly, but I hadn’t done much of that in years. I lifted my intact arm and cast the spell. I grimaced, feeling bone, ligament, and blood bubble and reform inside me, piecing back together like some grotesque puzzle. I staggered back to my feet, rolling my shoulder which had almost certainly set incorrectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I made my way forward, fending off wave after wave of necromancers, all of whom thirsted to defile my corpse. I learned their patterns, though, finding ways to duck around their conjured nightmares and attack them behind their defenses. Still, I didn’t go without injury. I was slower than I once was, weaker. A necromancer managed to wedge her pathetic little dagger into a gap in the side of my armor as I grappled with her companion. I was still able to kill them both, but I limped and spat up blood all the while. I cast another healing spell and felt my flesh sew itself back up, gagging on blood and bile. I gripped the wall, panting. There couldn’t be much further to go, but there was no way Mannimarco didn’t know I was coming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once I caught my breath, I moved forward. There it was. The final door. The passage to the necromancer’s chambers. I entered and I could see the form of Mannimarco by firelight across the vast cavern. “Oh do come in!” he cried, his voice echoing dimly. “I’ve been expecting you!” I slowly approached, watching the walls and floor for traps. When I reached him, he smiled cruelly. “So this is what the all powerful Emperor sends me. A single middle aged woman, the mere shell of a great warrior.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must not be so terribly weak if I was able to destroy your pathetic little army.” He chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps. But I really did expect more resistance. I’m afraid your king may have sent you on a fool’s errand. You can do little more than distract me while he dies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you don’t know? Well, it doesn’t matter. You won’t escape to find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a terribly arrogant little thing. But perhaps not without reason. You were once quite powerful, and you see, I study power. I collect those who seek to destroy me and draw their power from them. And you will be quite an interesting case. Come now, we waste time with chatter.” He extended his arm towards me and his fingertips glowed black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My limbs grew weak and my body slid towards him as if down an icy hill. Fumblingly, I dug through my bag, grasping for the pointed edges of the gem. I dragged it out, feeling as though it weighed a thousand pounds, and hoisted it in front of my chest. “Ah! A complication! How clever. My study of you will truly be a fascinating one, my little worm thrall.” I managed to take one step backwards, his pull on me weakening. Instead, my skin began to crinkle and twist, rippling and weakening. My eyesight grew dim and my very bones began to ache. I could feel the blood in my veins receding like the tide, struggling to circulate, each beat of my heart doing less and less. I extended one trembling arm, blasting my enemy with every manner of destruction spell I could remember. He laughed as I was slowly dragged towards him again, his evil magic warring with Traven’s soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I was nearly drained of my very life, Mannimarco reached out to grab my throat. I spit on his hand and lifted my sword while he was distracted. “How dare you!” he cried, backhanding me. I recoiled, but with my last dreg of strength, I managed to reel back. Time slowed as I swung my blade forward. Mannimarico’s expression turned from smug self-assurance to abject horror and agony as my sword cleaved his flesh, his scream of cowardice echoing off the stone walls. I screamed my own in reply, a fierce lion’s roar, and hacked off Mannimarco’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I collapsed onto the ground, my sword clattering out of my hand and landing next to Mannimarco's headless corpse. I gasped and coughed on the ground, convulsing. I reached up to swipe the sweat away from my forehead and froze, staring at my hand. It was gnarled and spindly, the fingers of an old hag. I sat up slowly, my back aching. I stared down into a puddle of water at my side and gawked at the face looking back at me. It was ancient. I’d aged a hundred years in ten minutes. Strands of disheveled, pure white hair hung down over my forehead. I touched the deep canyons on my cheek, horrified. What happened to me?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I was finally able to tear myself away from my own mangled reflection, I clambered to my feet, feeling the intense ache of this artificial age. I remembered Mannimarco had said something about Martin dying and I braced myself. I had to get back to the Imperial Palace. Now.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Finale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>My trip back to the Imperial City was slow and arduous. My body was stiff and painful, and I found myself constantly exhausted. My perceived weakness made me a target for many a bandit, but I was still strong enough to beat them back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I arrived at the palace in the pallid hour before dawn and limped my way up to the Emperor’s chambers, my heart beating hard and with a rough rattle. I reached the door just as Carmilia came out of it. Her eyes were red and her unblemished cheeks tearstained. She stared at me. “What… what happened to you?” I shook my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure, but it’s not important. Mannimarco is dead. I must speak to the Emperor.” She wiped quickly at her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid you haven’t much time…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” She shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… I suppose I can tell you now. The Order of the Black Worm placed some sort of curse on my husband. They wanted to kill him slowly and… and make him a perfectly preserved… worm thrall!” her voice broke and she swallowed a sob. She managed to regain some composure and continued, trembling. “Even the best healers and mages have been unable to lift it. He made me swear not to tell anyone, but especially not you. He seemed certain that if you found out, you’d spend all your time trying to lift the curse rather than protecting the baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knew he was at Aetherius’s gate when he sent you off to destroy Mannimarco. He didn’t want you to see it… to see it and think you could have helped. He said you’d blame yourself…” She looked down, speaking flatly. “Well, you should go in. He said that if he happened to still be here when you returned, that he wanted to see you.” She collapsed onto a bench nearby and part of me wondered vaguely if she knew something had gone on between her husband and I, as small and unrealized as that something might have been. With trepidation, I approached the door, opening it slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the curtains were pulled tightly shut in the chambers, creating a false and deathly silent midnight. My steps were muffled by the carpet as I slowly walked to the bedchambers. I entered and stopped in the doorway, stunned. There was Martin, asleep, lit only by a few candles. He looked gaunt and small in the bed, as if he was drowning in an ocean of rich silks and furs. I came to his side haltingly, holding my breath. The candlelight glimmered in the sheen of sweat on his upper lip. I leaned forward slightly and he opened his eyes, which were no longer clear, clouded by a milky film. He looked at me hazily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Champion… you have returned…” His voice had lost all of its commanding tone, now barely more than a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Mannimarco is dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good… good… I knew you would do it…” I tossed aside my gauntlets and gently touched his cheek. His skin was cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me open a curtain. It’s too dark in here.” He smiled weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please… the healers say the dark is for the best, but… I miss the sun…” I turned and threw aside the curtains of the nearest window. The sun had not yet risen a single golden tendril above the horizon, but the sky was a pale blue, illuminating the room just enough. I returned to Martin’s side to see that the light served only to make him look worse, highlighting the hollows of his eyes and cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kneeled slowly, my joints protesting painfully, and took Martin’s hand. “Let’s pray.” He closed his eyes and I pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. I took a deep breath, at a loss for what I could possibly say to the gods I’d ignored since I’d left the employ of the Empire years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I started with forgiveness. I begged the Nine to forgive my sins and transgressions, Martin’s sins and transgressions, the sins and transgressions of the whole Empire. Then I begged for help. For something, anything to keep the Emperor alive. I’d read that sometimes the gods would directly answer prayers of their followers. But I heard nothing. Nothing but silence and Martin’s labored breathing. My shoulders shook with rage and I tried to keep my grip on Martin’s hand gentle. I’d asked for nothing from them my entire life. Perhaps guidance on occasion, forgiveness often, but no corporeal thing. And in my hour of need, they ignored me! I lifted my head to the heavens, opening my mouth in a silent scream as the sun lifted above the horizon, my body shaking with emotion. What use are gods who are indifferent to the pleas of the suffering, of the desperate? I wanted brashly to spit in the face of all that was supposedly so divine and sacred. I was about to rise, about to give in to my weakness and allow Martin to die alone, but when the sun’s light touched my face, I heard nine voices speak in my ear in unison. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You have the power. Use it quickly.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I felt a tingling warmth rise in my face and lips. I knew then what I must do, what my entire life had led up to. I touched the face of the Emperor lightly, brushing a limp, wayward strand of stone gray hair away from his cheek. “Martin?” He opened his eyes halfway, and my soul knew that there were only moments left. Yet I still hesitated. Should I speak my mind at last? Could I bear to say it? Well, I couldn’t lie to him. Not now. Not about this. So, with a quivering voice, I spoke the words I hadn’t dared even think in all this time. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Before he could finish, I pressed my lips firmly to his. I felt the transfer immediately. Warmth for cold. Health for sickness. Life for death. I fell back, unable to support my own weight, but I felt a strong grip around my waist, pulling me up. My vision slid away from me, tunnelling so much that it seemed like I was viewing the world through a distant pinprick. I heard Martin’s voice from far away. He was shouting, or at least I thought he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing? I command you to stop this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, sire. I cannot obey this order.” I couldn’t hear my own voice, but I was certain I’d spoken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m asking you. As a friend. Reverse whatever it is you’ve done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry…" The tiny droplet of light that was my sight slipped away. In the last wind-whispers of sound my ears could hear, I picked up Martin’s voice once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” he called. “Come back! Please!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Mercy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Only one more chapter to go!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The room had gone entirely silent and still. Even the first birdsong of morning had been muted in Martin’s ears. She was still in his arms, her eyes, as cloudy and unseeing as they were, frozen on his face. Numbly, he reached up, caressing shut her empty gaze. It took Martin a moment before he could set her down, crossing her arms across her chest and arranging her comfortably in his bed. Once he had lifted his hands from her and risen, he couldn’t look at her again. He couldn’t bear the image of the great champion, slain at last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without giving a thought to changing from his night clothes, he wandered out of his chambers and to his tearful wife. The moment he stepped into the hall, Carmilia leapt from her seat on the bench and threw her arms around him. She began to shed fresh tears, now in relief. “By the Nine, you’re alive! How?” Martin replied in a soft monotone as he wrapped his arms around her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A life for a life. As the gods have willed.” She tilted her head up to look at his face, resting her chin on her husband’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean by that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Hero of Kvatch is dead. She traded her life for mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was… very noble of her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Servants were soon bustling about through the chambers. The body of the Champion of Cyrodiil was whisked away to be given the Three Consecrations by priests of Arkay and preparations for a grand funeral in the Imperial tradition were made. Meanwhile, maids dusted and opened curtains, turning a deathbed back into a marriage bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Martin spent the day being looked over by stunned healers. Not one could understand how he was healed, except that it must have been by the hands of the gods. In the dark of night, when the Emperor was certain his wife was asleep at his side, he slid out of bed, quietly changing into his decades old priest’s robes and pulling a hood low over his face.  He crept out of the palace, treading as lightly as possible so as to avoid being heard in the vast, echoing corridors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, rain crashed down in sheets, pooling in the streets before it could drain out into the sewers. Martin felt cleansed in the chilly downpour, as if purified by the tears of the gods themselves. Thunder rolled as he walked the slick stones of the street, lightning illuminating for a moment the moonless sky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slipped into a courtyard and stopped, his eyes falling upon a beggar huddled against a wall, laying on a drenched bedroll. Something that had been dormant in him for many years twisted awake and he rushed forward, kneeling at the beggar’s side. The old man stared up at him in fear and Martin spoke softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come. Let me purchase you a room and a hot meal for the night.” The man didn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want in exchange? I don’t have anything to give.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, brother. Nothing.” Martin rose and offered the man his hand. Slowly, he took it and the Emperor helped the beggar to his feet. Side by side, they hurried through the rain to the nearest inn, where Martin paid for a room and a hearty meal for the soaking beggar. They sat together as the beggar ate, Martin gazing out the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how I can thank you,” said the beggar. Martin shook his still hooded head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need thanks. It is my duty.” As the beggar climbed the stairs for bed, the Emperor realized that his champion had given him two gifts instead of just one. Not only had she given him her life, she had given him mercy.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The People's Emperor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we are, the final chapter! Thanks for sticking with me through my first full, multi-chapter fic!!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the eve of the heir to the Ruby Throne’s twentieth birthday and his father was tired. Martin was proud of the man Cyrim had become, and he made this quite clear in the speech he gave at the feast in his son’s honor before he’d disappeared into his chambers to rest. His health was failing, so no one questioned him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By all means, since the death of the Champion of Cyrodiil, Martin had been an unconventional emperor. As if awakened from some prophetic dream, his rule changed overnight. He rejected power and opulence in exchange for servitude to the very least of his people. He felt like a priest again, championing the will of the gods through his actions and policies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Cyrim turned twelve, he and his father began a new tradition. Every Sundas night, they would disguise themselves and break bread with the poor. They made sure all that they shared their supper with were healed and had a place to sleep by the end of the night. It was only right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those living on the Waterfront had begun to refer to Martin as The People’s Emperor and the name stuck. Martin himself wasn’t particularly fond of this name, but then he resisted honorific titles entirely. He was a servant, not some divine being.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, the emperor dressed for bed. His bones ached and crackled at each joint. This was the night. He knew what it was to die, and he’d felt it in the air he’d exhaled from his weakening lungs for weeks. He regretted sullying his son’s day of honor, but it was what the gods willed. He trusted their wisdom and power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slowly lowered himself into bed and gazed out the window. It was a clear night, stars twinkling around twin moons. It was a perfect evening to enter Aetherius. He hoped that he’d not left any ends untied in his mortal life. He didn’t want his wife and son to deal with any undue difficulties in their time of mourning. He was certain though, that even if his son was still a young man, he was ready to take on the throne, ready to continue his legacy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt his soul straining at its bonds, breaking free from mortal limitations. He prayed for forgiveness of his sins, for peace for his family, for guidance in his journey into the arms of the Nine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moons and stars seemed to grow brighter, filling the room with a pure light only Martin could see. A silhouette appeared at his bedside, a clear, incorporeal blue. The form spoke softly with a voice distorted by untraceable echoes, but unmistakable. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Come with me, sire. I will show you the path.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> A ghostly hand brushed across his cheek and he smiled weakly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So my champion has returned to me once again in the hour of my death.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have been sent to guide you into Aetherius. My final act as your guardian.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never got to finish my words to you all those years ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“There is no need. The gods have shown me what lies in your heart.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The air-made hand caressed his cheek once more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Time runs short, Martin Septim. Arise from the bonds of this plane now. The gods call to you.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She extended her hand to him. With the sluggishness that came with old age, Martin reached to take it. When their hands met, his mortal arm fell back against the bed, his soul beginning to separate from his body. With her suddenly firm and very real grip, he was lifted up from the trappings of his body, of Nirn. He came to stand lightly at her side and he could see her as if she was alive before him, as youthful and strong as he’d remembered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you greatly, my friend.” He smiled at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I you, Martin.” A twinkling path of divine mist and stars materialized before them, twisting away into the velvet sky. “Follow this path. I will be at your side the whole way.” He nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First… there’s something I owe you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Certainly not. You owe me nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hush now.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressing gently to hers for a moment before their lips connected in a warm, long awaited union. They embraced each other tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Martin, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you.” She gazed up at him, the stars of night reflecting in her dark eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too. Come away with me now. It’s time.” She took his hand and they turned to the ethereal path. The mortal world of the living faded away from them slowly as they ascended, leaving behind nothing but a distant memory. Martin had truly earned his place in Aetherius, in the halls of eternity, there to remain as a legend, as a true servant and guide to the people of Tamriel.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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